Fantasy
by FusilliWriter
Summary: He had been fantasizing about this since they met. Based on something I've been thinking about since the Halloween special came out and won't leave me alone. It has nothing to do with Halloween though. Gerita and some Spamano.
**Disclaimer:** Hetalia and its characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya… and everything else.

 **N.A.:** Based on something I've been thinking about since the special came out and won't leave me alone. I'm so behind with the comic that I can't even remember where I left it.

 **Warnings: NSFW… mature work. M-rated. PG-16. Did I say NSFW?**

 **Translation practice, sorry. Un-betaed.**

xxxxx

Fantasy

xxxxx

The party had been a success. It was expected since the US was hosting it. Although Japan believed the party went a bit overboard a group of nations was lost in their own world, blind drunk so they could no longer distinguish the ones in front of them. Not that it was a problem for Germany, of course. He was not sober but not as lost as the couple a few meters front of him.

Spain and Romano had been drinking light, and drink after drink were forgetting where they were. With a few drinks over, they had no concept of inhibition. Spain was the first to take the other by the hip and take him to dance. It was not uncommon for them to dance, it was not a secret that Romano was his favorite dance partner, but as they got lost in a vortex of sensation their bodies stuck to each other more and more. They were getting a lot of attention and Romano at least had the decency to blush and hide his face in the neck of the one that raised him. Germany wondered how it would feel to have someone so close to him, taking care of him and be reciprocated so, passionately. Among his family he was the younger, it had been Prussia who raised and taught him about the world. His brother had had provinces under his wings for a while, but hear him tell stories was not the same as experiencing them.

With Hungary taking care of a sleeping Austria, Prussia talking incoherencies approaching predatory to America while calling him by his brother's name, England and France strangely friendly, it was time to go back. He looked to Japan who seemed not as dazed as the rest and said goodbye. Only Italy remained, with his eyes closed and breathing softly, perhaps unconscious. He picked him up and headed for the parking lot where a driver was waiting to take him to his hotel.

\- Good evening Mr. Germany, Mr. Italy also coming with us this time? – He could hear amusement in the man's voice. He had gotten rid of his Roman general costume at some point in the night and now dressed like Italy. His attempt to keep a straight face failed when he felt his face burn. Simply coughed and put the one who was still asleep immune to the outside world in the back seat.

While Germany turned around to get in the car from the other door, he heard some disturbing sounds. The driver was already inside the car so it would have been impossible for him to be the source of these sounds. He glanced toward a dimly lit corner and could see them. Two quite familiar bodies joined in a frantic swing. Romano had his legs wrapped around Spain's waist and his arms around his neck. Spain's hands were lost under the legs of Italy's older brother, the younger's face was beaded with sweat and his teeth biting his lower lip. It was during a particularly provocative and passionate moment, Spain moving harder and biting the neck of his partner, that he could hear them as if he were standing in the middle of them and not spying on them shamelessly.

\- All right, Mr. Germany? - The blonde came out of his doze, quickly got into the car and left the scene.

He had Italy's head resting on his legs, the brown-haired was still asleep. His face was illuminated in parts by the lights of the city. He watched him carefully. His cheeks were rounder than his brother's, his gestures kinder and more innocent, and his hair more docile. He wondered if he would make the same expressions as his brother while making love. If his skin would feel warm to the touch, if he'd bite his lips as Romano had done, or if he would say the same things.

"Yours, I'm yours, yours alone. Antonio."

Romano had told that to Spain between moans. With his eyes closed Romano and Italy were very similar. For a moment he had doubted it was not his inseparable ally who was melted into Spain. Germany took his hand to Italy's mouth, with one of his fingers wanted to caress his lips. Had the clothes he was wearing always been so short? With his legs bent, the fabric boldly marked his body, tempting him. A jolt of the car brought him back to himself. He looked away. There was hardly anyone outside these hours, they would soon arrive to the hotel.

xxxx

Italy was still asleep, he didn't want to wake him to make him enter his own room. He was sure they'd both awaken in the same bed in the morning anyway.

When he reached his bedroom, with difficulty removed the sheets to lay the older on the bed. He tuck him in and went to wash up. It didn't take him long. In a few minutes he laid beside him. The stress in his body became present as he relaxed, closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Romano's body haunted him. He wasn't sure he could get to look him in the eyes again. He was sure Spain would find out that he had been watching them. A shiver ran down his spine. The body beside him moved.

He opened his eyes and saw the Italian's honey brown eyes. Italy was on top of him, trapping him and looking at him innocently.

\- Germania Ciao! - Italy's voice resounded in the room. His blue eyes widened beyond what is physically possible. He couldn't help but let out a stutterer and a small squeak. He took the slimmer body and threw it across the bed.

\- Italy! Stop wasting time and sleep. If you want to cause trouble go to your room, please. - Germany turned his back. His tense posture and irregular breathing didn't deceive anyone, but hoped that Italy would dismiss it. - Wouldn't it be better for me to stay here to avoid trouble? - Italy had placed himself on top of him again, pressing his chest against his side, one of his legs dangerously close to Germany. He could feel his hot breath on his neck and his voice filled with something heavy. - That's what you liked the most about my costume after all, isn't it? Finally you could keep me on a leash.

Germany turned violently, sending Italy back to the mattress. With his lips slightly parted and frowning intently, he watched the Italian, how he laughed and moved in bed, stretching and lifting his legs. Sheets wrinkled under his body when he arched his back. His gaze fell on his. Italy once again approached him. He was still wearing the clothes he had at the party. Italy took him by the shoulder and made him lie down. He climbed up and sat on his hips. Germany didn't utter a word.

\- I liked the armor you wore. - With his fingers Italy ran the blonde's throat, delineated his muscles, felt the firmness of his abdomen. – It made you look worthy. Strong. As a leader. You've always been that but at the party I couldn't stop looking at you, seeing you dressed like one of mine made me feel things.

Italy leant over to kiss him. Germany pulled away - You drank too much, go to bed and try to sleep, I'll take the couch.

\- No, I know what I'm doing. I'm Italian, descendant of the great Roman Empire. It will take more than a small banquet like that to make me lose my mind. You know that well. Meetings like these were a normal day like any other. - Germany knew. But what was happening was not proper of the sweet Italian that liked wielding white flags and hiding behind Japan when he tried to scold him.

\- I don't want this. - Those words seemed to have an effect on the man who was above him, who stepped back a little. That movement, though accidental, had an opposite effect on the blond. He breathed heavily and put his hands on the thighs of the other. Italy looked at him again, this time with fun.

\- I know you want to, but you're not sure that's what I want. - The movements Italy made this time were turning him stupid. It was true. He wanted to know how it would feel to embrace his body every night since they started sleeping together. But the brown-haired acted so innocently. But that rocking motion was anything but pure. Chances were that he had learned that from France. Having only boxers on didn't help. Italy arched back as he kept moving, he grunted and tightened his legs with force, the Italian wasn't wearing anything underneath him.

\- I want it, make me yours that's what I want the most. For you to see me when I moan your name and wishing to have me every night. Make me yours. - Germany put aside all reasoning that told him this was a bad idea. If Rome abruptly appeared again he would send him flying out the window. Tonight he'd finally get what he had been longing for.

He took Italy by the waist and positioned his body under his own stamping his face against the pillow. Both were breathing hard. Grabbed him by the hips and lifted him closer to his body. Italy could feel his hardness rubbing against him unabashedly through the fabrics. A raspy hand struggled to take off his clothes. With the other, he took him by the neck to kiss him. It was not as he had imagined. There were no flowers or tomato-shaped rings. Nothing was sweet and soft. Rather violent, rough. His teeth clashed and a trail of saliva formed between them. One of Italy's hands reached his hair and pulled it. Germany backed away. Pressed the smaller against the bed while holding his wrists firmly against the headboard, Italy groaned, he was hurting. He loosened his grip a bit. While Italy recovered, Germany marked his back mercilessly. Bruises of all measures would become visible in the morning, the blonde had never felt so satisfied.

The Italian repeated his name between sighs. - Ludwig, Ludwig. - He paused, reason had returned. He had Italy dominated against the mattress. With his hips raised, exposed. His face blushing and eyes half open. Glittering, swollen lips. Desperately craving more contact, complaining that Germany had stopped. He was beautiful. He sent reason flying away.

Germany ordered Italy not to move, to stay in that position. From the lunch service he took a bottle of olive oil and smeared it on his hands. The aroma of olives invaded the room. Italy eagerly awaited. Germany caressed his buttocks and his entrance without penetrating him. Italy sighed heavily. The blond kissed his back. He was pleased to know that the other didn't need a chain around the neck to obey what he said. Although it seemed a tempting image. It was definitely something they would try later. Italy pleaded for more contact. He wanted to take his hands to his unattended length but Germany prevented it. He went back to hold him by the wrists, this time more gently, and with the other hand continued caressing him. Italy was frustrated. He wanted Germany to take him hard as a moment ago. He tried to wriggle out of his grip and take him as he wanted, but was physically weaker than the other. He growled. Germany made up for it using his tongue.

Italy's body was tense, wasn't expecting to feel Germany's tongue making its way into his body. Heading further south and kiss the perineum, and then come back and continue tainting his ring. And as it did, Italy relaxed and felt like a calloused finger entered him without difficulty. It was uncomfortable but the caresses the blond gave him so generously made him forget about it.

With half a bottle of oil and five fingers in his most intimate parts, Italy wouldn't last long. His red member had stained the sheets even more than the oil.

Germany released his wrists that fell motionless on the sides. He got rid of his boxers and laid his chest against the back of the Italian. He kissed his neck and stroked his forehead as he rubbed his erect penis against the buttocks of the older one. He led it to Italy's entrance and began pushing.

He felt his body shake, his eyelids clenched tightly. He was touring a vortex of emotions. Italy's moans came from afar.

Germania, Germania. Wake up, Germania! - When he opened his eyes Italy was looking at him worriedly, the sun was shining outside and Germany was dying. - You were complaining a lot while you were sleeping, surely you had a nightmare. - Italy's voice caught his attention. The Italian was dressed in shorts and a shirt. Apparently breakfast was served. He got up from bed and saw with horror the effects of the dream he had had. He tried to cover himself but Italy had already seen him.

The Italian only smiled and gave him privacy so he could take care of the problem. Germany entered the bathroom and got into the shower, he thought it wasn't polite to find relief with the culprit of his fantasies across the room quietly taking coffee. He remembered the dream he had, he felt bad. Italy was too innocent to act like that, he felt so ashamed of himself.

The down side of remembering was that as vile as he felt, there was no way to get off this fever with cold water. He closed his eyes and kept fantasizing while stroking himself with one hand. He soon started sighing the name of the man who was causing him so much trouble.

Locked up again in his fantasy world didn't even felt the moment when Italy approached the door. With one hand on the doorknob he was unsure of whether or not to enter. Italy leaned his forehead against the wood and listened as Germany sighed his name. He closed his eyes and turned the doorknob. They had waited long enough.


End file.
